Eli Cartwright

Eli Cartwright was born in a boomtown. His father, Jeb Cartwright, was a miner—one of the first to swing a pick into the seams that ran under the mesa. His mother, Hettie, kept house and washed ore dust from the company ledgers for pennies When Eli was nine, the mine blew and by dawn the company yard was lined with canvas shrouds. Jeb was one of them. The preacher of Saint Six-Guns, an old rider named Reverend Coley Marr, took the boy in during daylight hours so Hettie could keep working. Eli learned his letters by reading wanted posters tacked to the sermon board. He scrubbed floors, polished the revolver reliquary, and helped count cartridges. Marr taught him the Saint’s doctrine. Salt Creek ran dry, the mine played out, and the rails moved on. Marr packed the chapel’s relics and asked Eli now sixteen and steady-eyed to ride with him. Together they followed the old oath-roads, offering blessings at waystations and tending travelers’ wounds. But the years on the trail took their toll on Marr and fever took him quickly leaving Eli to carry his legacy and to help others in the saint's name.